


Under the Influence

by BusinessFish (LedgerLines)



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Anal Sex, Ass Play, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, I can't really describe it, I'll add more real tags as it becomes relevant, It starts out hot and heavy guys, NSFW, Original Characters - Freeform, Porn, Sexual Content, Smut, There's a plot, There's smut, following canon (for now anyways), lotsa porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-08-19 07:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8195246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LedgerLines/pseuds/BusinessFish
Summary: She walked into the Third Rail and there was an air about her. She was out of time, lost in a world not quite her own. John Hancock is mesmerized and he needs to learn more. She's just looking for someone to pick up her pieces and guide her through this new world. What starts as two strangers  with a magnetic attraction turns into a story for the ages.





	1. History is Made at Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hey friends, this is my first real fic for the Fallout 4 fandom and I hope you guys like it! Please let me know what you do and do not like in the comments, and I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Special thanks to powerovernothing.tumblr.com for being my second pair of eyes!
> 
> Fic title is referencing the song by the same title by Elle King (Oh my god she's amazing listen to her music rn)
> 
> The title is a reference to the song from Smash "History is Made at Night" which is probably my favourite song from that show (check it ouuuut)

When she walked through the doorway all eyes were on her. She didn't make a sound, but on some level everyone in the room knew she had entered. The air about her was different, she was a woman out of time. She was straight off of an album cover from back in the day. Not from one of the cheesy feel good albums either, ones from the underground movement he'd read so much about. Grungy and unkempt she wore torn jeans, black combat boots and a red flannel. Lips painted bright red and eyes lined in back, her makeup was her warpaint and did she ever look fierce. Her dark brown hair was braided halfway down her back save for wisps that framed her face and complimented her fierce brown eyes. 

She was headed straight for the bar and she walked with a purpose. He offered the guy beside him a handful of caps to get lost and she took the open seat as soon as it was out. “Whiskey and water.” she said in a low, harsh voice, raspy from the dust off the Commonwealth breeze. Charlie brought her her drink and after she'd taken a sip her eyes turned to Hancock for the first time. As she took in his skin her expression shifted from purposefully hardened to something closer to relaxed. He noticed for the first time two gold hoops hanging from the middle of her nose, a stud on her left nostril and two huge circles in her earlobes. Tattoos were common nowadays but piercings were a different story, folks usually couldn't find jewelry for them and even when they did it was old and rusted, not something anybody'd want to put in their face. 

“How's it hangin' sister?” her lips quirked into a smirk and she took another sip of whiskey.

“Hey man, I didn't know people still talked like that.” she nodded approvingly, “It's been better but the whiskey is warming me up just fine.” she downed the glass and asked for another. “How are you doing friend?” she quirked her eyebrows. 

“Well hey there you move pretty fast for a gal I just met.” she looked deep into his eyes. 

“I trust you, don't prove that instinct wrong.” there was an edge to her voice but damn if he didn't want to prove to her just how trustworthy he could be. 

“Well I was feelin' a little lonely but you're solving that no problem so I'd say I'm doing pretty alright. What brings you into our corner of the wastes?” 

She sighed, “Missing persons. Well, one missing persona that is.” resentment clouded her voice but he supposed she'd been interrogated enough to last a lifetime so he let it go. “We can talk shop later, I'm here for a break. What's with the digs?” Her eyes flickered over his hat and coat and he grinned.

“Well the name's John Hancock,” her eyes lit up with recognition and she genuinely smiled for the first time, “and I'm the mayor of this humble town.” she chuckled. 

“Damn, now that's a blast. I didn't realize our history had survived this long.” 

“Our history?” she'd confused him. Who was our?

“Never you mind.” Hancock shrugged it off, willing to let the mystery slide for now, he didn't want to scare her away by prying into her life. She didn't wanna talk? She didn't have to.

They chatted for a bit more, the woman asked him about the town, how he'd become mayor and how he'd come upon the garb of John Hancock himself. They spent a long time sitting and chatting the night away. With another drink Hancock got courageous, “Well sunshine, seeing as it's getting late, what do you say we take this party somewhere a little more comfortable?” He could have sworn she undressed him right then and there. 

“I don't mind at all.” 

He offered her his arm, a silly old-fashioned habit of his but he liked to make a lady feel appreciated. She took it a little awkwardly, his first true indication that there was indeed a mask up and that he'd have to chip it away bit by bit to get to know her. He swore that when they got to the Old State House she'd unbuttoned a button or two on her flannel, but he hadn't actually seen it happen so he let it go and sat down on the couch, patting the cushion beside him and grabbing a canister of Jet, shaking it, and offering it to her. 

She took a hit deep into her lungs and sighed warmly. As he took his hit she lit a cigarette and offered him one which he took gladly. Once they'd let the Jet wash over them she moved a little closer. “You know I saw what you did right?” Her eyes pierced his and he felt bare beneath her gaze. He gave her a questioning look. “I saw you bribe that john to get him off the stool. It's a suspicious move Mayor,” she drawled his title and a little rasp snuck into her tone, making his heart thud, “ but I figured anybody that desperate for some company had to have something good to say.” 

Well that was a turn of events. “Well, did I disappoint?” 

Their faces were just inches apart and moving closer, the two of them involuntarily closing the gap until her lips brushed his, “Not at all.” They kissed and the attraction moved the rest of the way down their bodies until she was on top of him, grinding her hips against his. 

Her heat flooded his skin, even through layers of clothing, electrifying him and making Hancock feel alive in a way he never had before. Pretty soon he'd undone her flannel and it crumpled on the ground, making the way for his hat, coat and his own shirt. She wore a simple black bra with delicate lace detailing that he'd rarely seen before, not that he really noticed as he removed it and threw it to the ground.

When their lips finally parted he looked up at her and saw lipstick smudges across her lower face, when he kissed her neck he left a trail of red passion leading to her breasts. He traced circles around her nipple with his tongue, just letting his lips brush up against the rising peak, until he finally brushed over it with his tongue. She took a sharp breath in and arched her back ever so slightly. He began to suck and she moaned quietly. He took his right hand and traced circles on her breast and she hummed a little louder, her hips getting more enthusiastic. He traded his positions and she gasped at the cold air hitting her now hardened nipple as he worked on the other. 

Her skin was salty against his tongue with the sweat of a long journey and her breasts were certainly paler than the rest of her body but the way they felt in his mouth was mesmerizing. If she hadn't pushed his hand down toward her legs he would have stayed there all night, but his attention was needed elsewhere. He deftly took her off of his lap and encouraged her onto the couch as he knelt in front of her. 

He pulled off her boots and socks and undid her jeans, sending them down her legs to the floor. He gently pressed a fist against her folds and looked up at her. She bent down to kiss him, breathing him in as if it was John, not air that she needed to sustain her. She scooted her hips closer to the edge of the couch to give him better access and he broke their kiss to take off her underwear. 

As soon as she was bare he pulled back her outer lips and slowly licked from her taint to her clitoris and, at that she nearly came undone. He thought to himself that he'd completely lifted the mask and this was her. This was the mystery woman's real self and damn was she somethin'. She made the most beautiful sound as he slipped his finger into her dripping pussy and when he focused back on her clit she moaned “John” in the most sacred way. She said his name like a prayer and he'd be damned if he didn't answer it.

He slid another finger into her vagina and she said the words he'd been waiting to hear, “Fuck me John Hancock.” 

John tried to be coy, “Well now sunshine, is that an order.” 

She looked down at him, a perfect vision of lust, lips flushed from having bitten them in an effort to keep moans back, pinching her nipples as he ate her out. “Fuck me now or so help me God...” she trailed off into a moan as he crooked his fingers upwards to find the rough spot that he knew would drive her wild. She reached down and undid the sash around his waist (man was this girl flexible) and he took the hint and removed his pants. She laid down on the couch and, oh god she put her leg up over the top of the couch, and he knelt before the goddess in front of him and carefully entered her. Her pussy struggled to stretch around his cock, maybe two fingers hadn't been enough. She sensed his hesitation and whispered, “Just take it slow it'll be fine.”

Slowly but surely he worked his way into her, little whimpers escaping her bright red lips, the sound of pure sex as she got looser around him. Her pussy squeezed his cock and he grunted in surprise. Seeing the devilish look flit across her face he knew she'd come to play. He increased his speed slowly working her into taking his whole length, balls growing tight at her tiny whimpers and balling his hands into fists through her hair as the whimpers grew to moans. She whined in rhythm with the slap of his balls against her ass and before he knew it, sooner than he'd anticipated, Hancock was going to cum. He warned her and she pushed his hips into her and moved his hand to stimulate her clit. He was frantic with need and fucked her as fast as he dared as she cried out his name in ecstasy. As he came inside her it dawned on him he didn't have a name to call. Not that he could form words, but Hancock wasn't usually so sloppy, he usually knew a chick's name before they'd gotten this far but nothing about this encounter had been at all usual. 

As he pulled out he looked down at her, panting, and whispered, “So sweetheart, you got a name?” 

She quirked her eyebrows at him and smirked, “Took you long enough to ask. I'm Ingrid. Pleased to make your acquaintance Mayor Hancock.” There was that growl again, her voice was thick with lust. He suggested they move things to the bedroom and she acquiesced.


	2. Other People's Crimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, a tale told to new friends with new faces in new places. (Lame rhymes, I'm bad at summaries)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exposition, meeting new friends, still following the main plot. Big thanks to powerovernothing.tumblr.com who is not only my second pair of eyes but is allowing me to include her OC Ponnie in the story! A lil smut to tide you all over until I get a second to finish the next chapter ;) 
> 
> Title is from the tune Lonely Alcoholic by Mika, it's a gooder and I'll probably continue to use it throughout this tale. 
> 
> i don't own any characters except for Ingrid and all that jazz, thanks Bethesda for writing characters who are so fun to expand on! 
> 
> As always, comments and constructive criticism are super appreciated! Read away my friends

When he awoke the next morning, she was gone. Not that he'd expected her to stay. John hoped she would, it's not often you meet a dame so interesting you don't ask her name until after you've fucked, but sometimes that's life. You're swept off your feet by the most incredible woman you've ever met (and the most incredible sex you've ever had) and then she just up and disappears. 

That's what he thought, but then the door to his room opened, simultaneously filling him with a foolish boyish hope and scaring the shit out of him. He let out a relieved sigh, “Sunshine you're lucky you disarmed me in the other room or you'd have an extra hole.” 

She rolled her eyes, “Slick wording there kid.” Now that was a surprise, nobody'd called him kid since he was... well a child, and he couldn't say he disliked it. “Now, what was that you were saying about wanting adventure?” It all came back to him. A post-sex conversation about a dream world where he didn't have a town to run. Where he could get back to his anarchist roots, wandering the Commonwealth, delivering justice. The thought of getting out there, with anyone but especially with her, well, it was something he didn't want to pass up. He would have gone with anyone who'd asked, but he was glad it was her. He had a feeling she could hold her own, and he was always ready for an opportunity to lay a beautiful lady. 

“Ah fuck it.” he muttered to himself. 

Ingrid turned to him, eyes glinting mischievously, “You up for it mayor?” she drawled before returning to applying pencil liner to her eyes in the grimy mirror hung on his door. 

“Got some housekeeping to do, but what the hell. I ain't dead yet.” he grinned and went to gather his clothing from the mound on the floor he'd left it in in their flurry of passion and limbs last night. He secured his hat, and stepped onto the balcony to address the town as she pulled her hair back. 

 

“Oh, Nick. Nick!” his metal hand drew circles around her nipple tracing just missing the peak. He slowly drew his tongue up her folds, making small circles around her clit when he got there. “Oh my god.” 

He loved when she was breathless. “You like that Ponnie?” 

She groaned, “No, shhhh don't stop, don't stop.” The hand that had been gripping the back of his head gently nudged him back down. 

“I must say, I like it when a gal knows what she wants.” She nudged more insistently, moaning in the most erotic way, her voice a high pitched whine when he gently slipped a finger inside her. 

The papers on his work desk had flown absolutely everywhere, one was stuck to her thigh and for some reason that just turned him on more. He pinched her nipple and she, oh so gently, slipped two fingers behind his ear, tweaking his wires subtly. He shuddered, the feeling of nibbling under his ear sending waves of pleasure crashing over him. 

Her whines got higher and louder as he slipped another finger into her and gently sucked her clit. “Right there, right there oh god yesssssss.” She trailed off into pants, chest rising and falling in such a way that he could hardly keep himself together when he looked up at her. She wiped brown bangs from her forehead, shiny with sweat. He'd really got her worked up and he wasn't about to leave a lady unsatisfied. 

He could always tell when she was close. Ponnie would usually try to tell him, but he hardly let her get the words out. He slipped a third finger in and mercilessly pounded her, all the while swirling his tongue around her clit in patterns he knew would make her swoon. 

“Nick Nick Nick Nick” in time with his hands “Oh,” it was about to happen, “Oh god yes.” Her pussy contracted around his fingers and his hand rode her through her orgasm as she let out a long moan. 

As she subsided into a slow pant and he moved up to kiss her, they heard the door open. Nick reached for the revolver he kept in his desk but didn't have a chance to grab it before they heard a familiar voice, “Sounds like fun, room for one more?” 

“John you piece of absolute garbage!” Ponnie yelled through the house from the bedroom before rushing to the bathroom to clean herself up. Nick rolled his eyes but caught her for one last kiss before re-buttoning his shirt in an effort to make himself presentable. 

 

Ingrid had managed to keep her cool when getting introduced to Ponnie the artist and Nick the sleuth. There was a hint of recognition in his eyes at the sight of her, and when she heard him speak she knew that voice. The perfect American accent from circa her time. 

She hadn't been keen on walking in uninvited, especially with the sounds coming from the Diamond City house, but Hancock insisted it'd be fine so she begrudgingly followed. It had been a long trek to Diamond City, but the advice she'd gotten from everyone she'd met and told her circumstances to had suggested Nick so once she had someone to back her up it was the natural destination. 

Travelling across the wasteland had been difficult and she still flinched killing animals and bugs. The bloatflies had disgusted her and she was glad to have a scoped rifle when she saw the explosion of their death. She hadn't wanted to talk much, but Hancock was a bit chatty. He was probably being polite, or he was uncomfortable with silence. Ingrid listened well and learned what she could about her new cohort. If they were going to travel together she had to know she could trust her. 

He told her about the different forces in the Commonwealth. She'd already encountered the Minutemen. Garvey and Sturges seemed harmless enough and having them on her side certainly couldn't hurt. The rest of their cohort were pretty damn useless. With Jun and Marcy so consumed with the guilt of failed parenting they'd both become entirely unbearable and Mama Murphy so drugged up she could hardly stand they were a motley crew that'd need more care than she had patience for. Setting them up in Sanctuary would be fine, it seemed to be an area mostly left alone. Hopefully they could hack it. 

Hancock had also gotten wind of a military group, “Call themselves the Brotherhood of Steel. I've heard about them up in the Capital Wasteland but who knows what they want here.” 

The thought of the military made her skin crawl. “Cretins.” she whispered shaking her head. John looked over, probably wondering what she'd said but it wasn't worth repeating. 

“Well, they're mostly just trying to restore some order to the land but the Elder of this sect sounds like quite the character.” His voice tightened and it sounded like he didn't really want to trust them. He moved on quickly enough.

“Then there's the Railroad. They're good people. Interesting sense of morality but their hearts are in the right place.” He explained synths to her, and the Institute that made them and wanted to control them. He told her about the acceptability of killing any synth throughout the 'Wealth and an anger grew within her. He told her about the Railroad's underground efforts to keep the synths safe and give them new lives and she nodded knowingly. “You look like you seen some shit sister, care to share?” A righteous anger on behalf of the synths had welled within her, she'd seen enough squashing of counter-culture in her own time to know when good people were at risk for being created 'wrong'. 

“That's a history lesson for another day man.” She hoped he'd leave it at that and to his credit, he knew when to stop questioning. He looked a little disappointed and she grudgingly sighed. He'd told her so much she should return the favour, she wasn't heartless after all, “Look friend, my story ain't pleasant and I'm gonna tell it all to the private eye anyways so you might as well wait.” He nodded, understanding. When they'd gotten to the gates of Diamond City there was a woman arguing hysterically with the voice on the other side of the intercom. 

John knew the chick and they had Ingrid pretend to be a trader so they could get in the gates, then Piper would draw the mayor's attention away from them. Why he shouldn't notice them, Ingrid wasn't sure, but she wasn't sure how they could slip past unnoticed with Hancock's frock. It turns out she'd vastly underestimated Piper's ability to command attention and they were able to avoid McDonough's radar. 

And this was the point of the story John had gotten to while she'd zoned out completely. Ingrid hadn't eaten in a while and the food here didn't agree with her so well anyways. She wasn't feeling quite right, but shook her head and tried to re-engage herself with the conversation. 

She noticed Ponnie looking over at her, concerned. The girl tucked her hair behind one ear, stood and grabbed a can from their pantry. “You're looking a little pale there love, you feelin' ok?” 

Ingrid shook her head, “A little faint, but I'll survive.” She drank the water and started to feel better. The purification made all the difference from the irradiated shit everyone else was fine with processing. 

“Do you want something to eat? We have lots of food, I think there are a few snack cakes left over from-” 

Ingrid cut her off, “Thanks sister but it won't help.” Ponnie's eyes narrowed, and she wore a little smirk as she looked back and forth between John and Ingrid. Ingrid shook her head internally, maybe she could lay off the slang for a bit. Didn't need any rumors spreading. 

“Well Piper sure does know how to keep eyes on her that's for sure.” Nick remarked, “But we're here because of you kid so why don't you tell me what you need my services for?” He turned his halo eyes towards her and she felt somehow reassured, she still couldn't place where she knew his voice from, but he made her feel at ease. Just a little, but it was enough.

She sighed and decided to start her story, “Well then, detective,” she turned to Valentine, “I guess, to start off you and I are from around the same period in time. It seems like we've got two different methods of preservation here, see I was cryogenically frozen in Vault 111. When I went under the world was ablaze, and when I woke up, my brother in law was dead and my sister's kid was gone.” 

She paused to sip the water. Nick's would-be eyebrows shot up, and she saw a thousand questions flash through his eyes, and John let out a sigh “Well shit.”

She quirked her brows and shrugged, “It's nothing, don't be sorry. He sucked and now I guess I'm the one who has to go look for the kid. It's just that I don't know where to start, or even how much time passed since they unfroze the three of us and then put me back under.” 

Nick leaned in, “What'd they look like? What exactly happened? Did you see much?” 

She nodded, “Yeah, ok, well,” she paused, a little reluctant to tell the story, but if it meant her nephew got found she decided she could suck it up. “Well ok, so my sister, she died a little before the bombs fell. Shaun, that's the kid, his dad was kind of a shitty guy so she asked me to take care of the kid. 

“Nate, her husband, wouldn't let the kid go completely but let me come live in the house to help take care of him. There was talk of nuclear war, public unrest, all that ya know. One day, we were visited by a guy from vault tech who wanted to sign us up for one of those vaults. They were supposed to be a haven. Like a fallout shelter. Well I figured we might as well sign up, if the apocalypse was gonna happen Viv probably would have wanted her kid safe and sound.” Her voice wavered when she talked about her sister and she chewed her lip between words. 

“So we head in cause, ya know the bombs fell, and they get us to change and say we're gonna enter a decontamination pod or whatever. Well, Nate's holding the baby and we get frozen.” She looked at her hands and started fidgeting.

“Next thing I know I can hear these people talkin' and the glass defrosts just enough for me to see two people. One of 'em was wearin' a weird suit, like a hazmat or something like that, not a vault suit like the other workers had been wearing when we got put under, that's when I knew something was wrong. The other was this bald guy, huge scar over his left eye, facial hair, had a real fuckin attitude. Killed Nate to get to Shaun and then came up to my pod and said somethin' about backup. Whatever they wanted the kid for, they got him.” She finished off the water and rubbed underneath her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. 

“Yeah, that's pretty much all I got for ya.” Ingrid wished she could come up with a more graceful ending, but really that was it. All she had.

“Well kid that's quite a story, how'd you manage to get to Goodneighbour?” The detective quirked his would-be eyebrows at Hancock.

“I went with a caravan. My aim ain't bad but I've only ever shot cans. I didn't think I'd make it alone.” 

Nick nodded, “Well we've certainly got a good candidate for the man behind the madness. Sounds like Kellog, an old hired gun wanted in connection with more than his fair share of deaths but it's nearly impossible to actually connect him to anything. You're the only one left alive who's seen anything of what he can pull off.

“Our first step would probably be to get into his old place, he got outta town a little while ago, but left his old house vacant. We can try to pick the lock, or if you're the more honest sort you may be able to sweet-talk a certain mayor for the key.” 

She nodded, “I'd rather save my charms for something more pressing. Break and enter it is.” Now, she would have stood up to get started on the case but it was dark out which probably meant heightened security, and she still didn't feel right from all of the irradiated food she'd eaten. However, she was hungry. 

“Hey Pon, could I grab one of those snack cakes you'd mentioned?” the other woman got up to grab her one, and came back with a few for the table. 

As she set them down she smiled at the two, “You guys got a place to stay? Nicky and I have an extra bed if you need.” 

Ingrid looked to Hancock, but he shook his head, “Nah sis, you'd keep us up 'till all hours of the night.” he winked as she blushed and glared daggers at him, “We'll grab a room in the dugout and meet you at the agency in the morning.” Ingrid knew what he was angling at and she definitely needed some stress relief after reliving her traumatic return to the world. 

Hancock stood and she followed, “Thanks for your hospitality friends.” She smiled at the couple, Ponnie waved goodbye and Nick gave the pair a knowing look. 

“You kids be careful, we'll need to be outta here bright and early. Don't stay up to late.”

Hancock scoffed, “I'm a saint ya old bot, I won't keep the lady up.” And with that they left, the house.


	3. By the Dashboard Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ingrid and John get a room at the dugout and spend the night. The next morning Hancock learns a bit more about Ingrid's past and they gear up to break into an old merc's home.

As soon as they were out of the door, Hancock smacked her ass. She blushed and turned around giving him the dirtiest glare, “If you want to make it to the hotel I'd suggest you cut that out right now.” He loved the colour of her cheeks, exactly the red he could imagine blossoming on her ass as he slapped it, taking her from behind- he needed to stop picturing fucking her and get to the Dugout so they could actually do it. 

The pair barely made it to the Inn with Hancock's insistence on touching her ass and her retort of pulling him into a searing kiss and teasing her hand down his chest and over the bulge quickly growing in his pants. 

Hancock walked to the desk, leaving Ingrid to wait by the hallway to the rooms. “Ok Bobrov, I don't want to be kept waiting, and neither does she. Whatever's empty, we'll take it.” 

Vadim nodded, “I'd be in a hurry too if I were you,” he waggled his eyebrows and looked at Ingrid, eyes full of lust. Hancock felt his chest tighten. _Jealousy? Jesus, she's just a... whatever. Get over yourself you ancient fuck._

“Yeah yeah Vadim, get a move on will ya?” 

Vadim turned back to Hancock, “Here, corner room, the room next to it is empty. Have fun.” He winked at Hancock who hardly noticed, he had already turned back towards Ingrid. 

“Let's go babe.” Before he could lead her to the room she pulled him in for a kiss, pressing her full body against him, then broke it off quickly. Too quickly. “Damn sugar, what was that?” He was nearly panting. 

“That oaf needed to know who I've got my eyes on.” She winked at him and he could have died and gone to heaven. 

They got to the room and as soon as the door was closed he had her up against it and started kissing her desperately, grinding against her hips. “Oh now, someone's excited,” she cooed reaching her hand down between them and feeling his throbbing erection. 

He groaned and had to physically stop himself from thrusting into her hand. _Gotta keep your cool, show her as good a time as last night. Gotta make sure she doesn't get bored._ But god did her hand feel good against his cock. He pulled back just enough to unbutton her shirt and pull it off. He reached behind her and undid her bra as she caressed his head, flipping off his tricorn. 

Momentary panic struck him at the thought of her, sober, and with such a gorgeous head of hair, touching his barren, scarred head. _Get it together, holy shit._ The self-consciousness was quickly gone as she brought his face back to hers and moaned into his mouth while he reached under the bra, still around her arms but now unhooked. 

In their inebriated fit of passion last night he hadn't gotten a proper moment to appreciate her breasts. They were so full, over filling his hands and when they fucked they bounced so fucking perfectly and oh god what was she doing with her hands?

He looked down to see her going to kneel, shrugging the bra off, undoing his pants and smirking at him as she pulled out his cock. “Commando? What a naughty man you are John.” The look she gave him was pure sin as he realized just how fucked he was. 

“Shit gorgeous you're perfect. Oh my god that's- _ahhh._ ” He sighed as her lips encompassed his head and she slid down his shaft. It took all of his willpower not to thrust into her mouth, but she did such a good job on her own. 

The sight of her, chest bare and bouncing as her head bobbed and left her lipstick smeared up and down his cock. He was getting a grip on himself and finally getting used to her rhythm and the pressure of her lips and hand fucking his cock when she caught him totally off guard. He felt her lips go down to the base of his cock and as his tip hit the back of her throat she gagged a bit before pulling off of him, a string of spit leading from his twitching erection to her chin. She looked up at him with big round eyes and he pulled her up to kiss him. He tasted his precum on her lips and she took the momentary pause to strip him bare. 

When she'd finished removing his clothes leaving them to crumple on the floor he scooped her up and deposited her on the bed, crouched over her in a nearly predatory fashion. He kissed her and gently tugged her lower lip with his teeth, eliciting a heavenly moan from her reddened lips. He trailed kisses, sucking just a bit, until he got to her tits. 

“Holy shit, you're gorgeous. And just look at these perfect fucking tits.” he pinched a nipple between his teeth, pulling it taught, then letting it go and gently sucking. She was writhing beneath him, hardly able to contain the little whines and moans he was learning how to elicit.

He kissed down her stomach, making sure to get her stretch marks. They were just a little bit more sensitive than the rest of her skin and as he licked along them she let out a long moan, “Oh god John yes.”

He finally got down to her cunt, dripping so much there was a circle of moisture on the sheets beneath her, “Ingrid holy fuck, gorgeous you are an image of lust and sin.” and with that he plunged into her folds, propping her up just a bit with his hands so he could lick from her asshole, up her taint, over her opening to her clit where he spent some time drawing letters with his tongue. 

She handed him a pillow so he could occupy his hands with other endeavours and as his finger teased her pussy she groaned, “John fuck, you are so good.” He plunged two fingers into her cunt and her words bled into a moan as he started to suck her clit. When he thought they just couldn't take it anymore he moved his face back up to hers and she kissed him, sucking her juices from his lips. 

He positioned his cock at the entrance of her pussy and slowly filled her. He could feel her walls stretching around him as the two of them moaned in perfect harmony. He slowly buried his entire cock into her and waited for her to adjust around him before pulling out and slowly filling her again. 

Her eyes fluttered closed, her mouth was a perfect 'o' shape as he filled her again and again, and the way she played with her tits well... fuck. “Sugar you look like a fucking pinup model holy shit. 

“Then you must be my James Dean.” she replied in a low, husky voice. 

Impatient, she grabbed his hips and pulled him into her faster and he thought he might lose all control. Hancock couldn't let himself get that far gone yet, he had a fantasy he still needed to test out. “Sugar,” he panted into her ear. “How about getting on your hands and knees and letting me take you from behind?” 

Her eyes snapped open and her pupils went wide, “Oh god yes, whatever you say.” His breath caught at the hint of submission, something to explore another day. 

He pulled out, “Well then, get on your knees.” She obeyed, and he slapped her ass, grabbing onto her lush hips with the other hand and sliding into her welcoming entrance. She shuddered a bit, “Everything ok babe?” he stopped, wondering if he'd hurt her. 

She slammed her hips back into his, “Good,” she panted, fucking herself on his cock, “Better than good. Fucking, perfect.” she breathed. He went back to fucking her, and landed another slap square on her right ass cheek, rubbing it after to soothe the sting. Her moans pulsed in time with his thrusts and each slap sent her voice soaring nearly an octave higher than it had been before. He licked a finger and teased her asshole, testing the waters. 

“Mmm yes please,” she moaned, giving him the permission he needed. He slicked his finger again and slowly pushed it into her tight hole, drawing out a long, high whine from Ingrid as he continued fucking her, angling his hips down a bit, trying to hit the rough patch within her. “Oh shit, right there. Goddam, right fucking there, oh John. Fuck I'm close.”

He reached around with the hand that had been on her hip to fondle her breasts, pinching and pulling at her nipple until he felt her walls quake around him and shot hot strings of cum into her pulsating pussy. “Oh shit goddamn, he leaned over her back as he came, moaning into the soft plush spot between her shoulder blades. It was the kind of climax that John felt in his goddamn _bones_. It surged throughout his entire body, his fingers spasmed and he was on a goddamn cloud. 

He rode her through her wailing orgasm and god was it long. Even as his cock began to soften when he was done, she was still letting out little moans and whimpers. He did his best to keep going for her and soon her moans subsided. He pulled out and she collapsed onto the bed “Well shit John, you know how to treat a girl.”

He lay down beside her and put out his arms cautiously. He was feeling a little touchy-feely after such a satisfying romp, but didn't want to over step his bounds. Ingrid eyed him cautiously, but gave into his warmth and curled into him, laying her head on his chest. “I like this.” she whispered “I like it a lot John, but I don't want you to get the wrong idea.” 

He nodded and looked down at her, “Sister, we play by your rules. I'm just counting myself lucky I get to be with you at all.” 

She blushed a bit. “You don't gotta flatter me Hancock, I know you can take your pick of these Commonwealth girls.” he went to protest but she stopped him, “Nah babe, it's true, don't say anything differently. I'm just here to have a good time and,” she paused for a moment and looked right into his eyes, “I'm glad to be doing it with you.” 

He kissed her forehead delicately and the two of them fell asleep that way, basking in post-coital glow. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She wasn't used to spending the night with the guys she slept with. She hadn't done that since, well technically over 200 years ago, but it only felt like 10. He'd been a good guy but she couldn't commit then and Ingrid doubted very much that she could commit now. 

Something inside her was hoping otherwise. She did her best to ignore it. 

Ingrid had come into consciousness to find that Hancock was lazily drawing patterns across her back as she lay on her side, he had no idea she was awake and Ingrid thought that she could indulge herself a moment or two to pretend this was real. That she was the kind of person and he was the kind of person who could commit to a healthy, functional relationship. Those moments were blissful. She couldn't let herself get too attached. Finding Shaun is the goal. She hummed and rolled over. “Sorry sunshine, did I wake you?” 

She inferred a blush, and smiled shaking her head no. “It's bright out, we gotta get with that detective and his dame and find my missing nephew.” She rolled out of bed and picked her clothing up from the pile it'd be unceremoniously left in and grabbed what was left of her pencil liner and lipstick from her bag. 

“Do you know of anywhere I can buy this stuff anymore or have women learned how to cope without makeup?” He chuckled. 

“Sister you hardly need it, but yeah I can probably hook you up.” she rolled her eyes into the mirror as she tightlined her left eye, “It's a rare commodity, nobody can really make it but enough department stores are left standing that scavengers can make a pretty penny selling 'em off.” 

Ingrid turned from the mirror and grabbed the brush from her pack, starting from the bottom of her locks and working her way up gently, then finally braiding her hair as he watched, mesmerized. “Never seen a chick get ready before?” 

He shook his head and cleared his throat, eyes darting around as if searching for something to say instead of answering her question. “So, you'd rather break and enter than charm an old man?” 

She nodded, “I've done enough charming to last me a goddamn lifetime. Waitressing back in the day, waiting for my big break.” she rolled her eyes and sighed, “Yeah wasn't exactly my thing.” 

“Big break for what?” 

She laughed, “Well I was in this band, we were part of the underground scene. Nothing like the stuff the radio here plays. Real counter-culture kinda shit. It sounds dumb I'm sure but hell, we tried. For a classically trained musician I sure didn't end up making it as far as I thought I would.” 

Hancock gave her an inquisitive look, “Yeah man, you used to be able to go to school for music. And I went for classical. Ended up with a bass guitar and a band but hey, I still got the chops.” 

“What did you play in school then? What did you even learn?” 

She laughed, “Well I was a concert pianist. We spent a lot of time learning music, but I got a good background in music history and theory as well. Not to mention the electives I got to take. I took some English classes, dabbled a bit in philosophy. It was just kinda what you did at that time.” 

He nodded, “Hell sister, gotta pass on some of that knowledge. And some day I wanna hear the music you've been telling me about.” 

She laughed, “If you show me a piano I'll play.” 

He threw her a wink, “That can be arranged.” 

She smiled at him, it wasn't just a flirty smirk like they'd been shooting back and forth over the past couple days, it was a real genuine smile. Hancock felt his heart skip a beat. _None of that shit._ She had enough going on already and didn't need his goddamn emotions fucking with their vibe. 

She told him some stories of her old days at University, “You would have dug it. At a liberal arts college there were so many activists fighting so much wrong. It felt like a place where you could actually make changes.” He saw a light in her eyes, she continued to tell him about protests and sit-ins she'd been a part of while they made their way to Home Plate. When she talked about her old friends and how they'd stood up for what they believed in, her entire being was alight. She walked differently, used her hands more while she was talking, her voice inflected more. It was like a glimpse of who she'd used to be. 

They got to the detective's home and knocked on the door, “Hey Valentine, you ready?” 

He nodded and adjusted his hat, “Let's go kids, time's a wastin'.” Ponnie was at the door and he turned back to her, “Bye sweetheart, I'll be back before you know it.” 

He leaned over to kiss her, and she went up on her toes to reach his face, “Don't get into too much trouble and take care of each other.” She waved as they set out, ready to break in to a merc's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I do know that there was kind of a weird POV shift in the last section of the chapter but what I'm wondering is if anybody minded at all? Was it weird, were you confused or did it work? Please leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed! I'm having a good time getting back into writing after a long hiatus and would love any constructive criticism you have to give :)
> 
> Ok super cheesy but title is taken from the song Paradise by the Dashboard Light by Meatloaf. I used to hate him but then my bf played Bat Out Of Hell at me in the car for weeks and now I love it so... cheesy chapter title it is. 
> 
> As always thank you to powerovernothing.tumblr.com for letting me use her OC Ponnie, I love the chemistry between her and Nick and hope to explore it more in later chapters! Thanks for reading :)


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